


Stay

by Mariss95



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-14
Updated: 2014-02-14
Packaged: 2018-01-12 07:11:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1183372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mariss95/pseuds/Mariss95
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They took one big step forward but he backed away. Everything has changed. Can he make her stay?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stay

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! I wrote this as the response for some tumblr prompts:   
> -Oliver trying to prevent Felicity from leaving, sent by fponthedl  
> -Felicity trying to move on, Oliver not letting her, sent by jemma-ward
> 
> It’s basically a one-shot with two clear parts.  
> It doesn’t contain spoilers  
> Enjoy!

**STAY**

 

_Not really sure how to feel about it._

_Something in the way you move_

_Makes me feel like I can't live without you._

_It takes me all the way._

_I want you to stay_

 

**“Don’t go”** he whispered, barely loud enough for her to hear.

Felicity turned to face him cautiously. She’d known he’d been spying from outside her balcony for the last couple of hours, surely finding the best way to approach her. He looked ridiculously out of place standing in her living room donning his arrow suit. If she wasn’t so mad at him it would make her laugh.

“Why wouldn’t I?” she said sternly, crossing her arms to her chest.

“Because we need you. I need you” he breathed, eyes glued to hers.

She bit her tongue. She couldn’t falter just because of the desperate tone of his voice. She shut her eyes tightly, remembering why she had to go.

“That’s not enough” she said, proud of how steady her voice sounded.

Oliver took two steps forward, putting his hood down. In the dimly lit room he could see her hardened features and fought the urge to touch her, instead he fisted his hands by his side, knowing that’s how they’d reached this predicament.

One bad week, when his life seemed to be falling apart and one too many memories had led him to her. That night he’d crossed a line, allowed himself to let go, to feel something. And it had been even better that he’d imagined.

He could still feel her hands running through his hair, listen to her soft mumbling in his ears, the sight of her darkened eyes: the memory of his night with Felicity Smoak forever imprinted on his mind.

And then a few troubled thoughts, fear creeping in and he had to ruin it all. He recalled her pained expression as he told her it had been a mistake.

“I’m sorry” he said, still lost in thought.

Her eyes fluttered open and met his. He meant it, she knew that. But her pride was wounded and it sure as hell took more than an apology to make it better. She felt used, the once cherished memories of their night together now tarnished by his words.

“That’s not enough, Oliver” her voice laced with pain. “We can’t just push a rewind button and go back to before that night. I can’t.” Her eyes pierced his, daring him to make this right. At his silence she went on. “I need to go, at least for now.”

His hand came up and cupped her face, his thumb tracing her cheekbone. “I’m really sorry… but I can’t do this, you know why” he said, his tone low and dreary. 

She looked down, moisture forming in her eyes. “And I can’t do _this_ ” she breathed, motioning between them with her hands. “One step forward and two back. I can’t be played around, Oliver. Not anymore. It hurts too much.”

She dared to look at him one last time, stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek, his stubble rough against her lips. Then she turned around and stalked towards the door, suitcase in hand.

Oliver stood frozen in the middle of her place, eyes glued on her. The sound of the door closing behind her made him wince. His jaw tight, a deep furrow between his brows. He had messed up. Now all he could do was give her space, hoping she’d come back to him… and pray that Diggle didn’t kill him in the meantime.

  

* * *

 

**Two weeks.**

That’s how long he managed to go by without her. It didn’t make sense, seeing as how he had survived five years in a hellish island. Still Felicity had a way to get to him.

That’s how he’d found himself on his way to Central City. He knew she was staying with a childhood friend, that much she’d told Diggle before leaving. So that Friday night he jumped on his bike and left his life behind, the one that felt far too empty without her.

The wind and rain hit him as he sped away, doing nothing to quench his thirst for her. Ever since that night he hadn’t been the same. Every moment spent in her company had his mind wandering to her, itching to feel her touch, to run his fingers through her hair. It terrified him how easily that night had changed his life. What was once a need that could be contained now had taken over him.

So he had done what felt like the right thing: let her go. Felicity knew and accepted all of him, even the parts he didn’t like. He knew, without a doubt, that if he gave in to his feelings it would go south. Either she would see how broken he really was and walk away, or worse: she would get hurt. Just being associated with either the hood or his public persona put her in danger, so he couldn’t fathom how much worse it would be if she were actually _with_ him. It would be like putting a target on her back.

That’s why he had taken a step back, trying to make it right, freeing her from him. And she had taken that cue, and walked away, taking his clarity with her. He didn’t need Diggle’s insight to know they were lost without her, _he_ was lost.

Thus he found himself at her friend’s apartment, watching from outside her window. She seemed carefree, talking with her hands as she usually did; but he knew how to read her, and noticed her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. In those deep blue eyes he saw hope.

So he remained still until her friend went to sleep and, enveloped in the dark, crawled to her window. She shrieked when he noticed him there, arms instantly pressed to her chest, willing herself to be strong.

“Felicity…” he said with as much emotion as he could muster.

“Don’t” she stopped him. “Don’t Felicity me. You shouldn’t be here.”

He flinched at her harshness, expecting her to feel as broken as he did without her. Then he remembered the look in her eyes. She faced away as he stalked towards her until they were only inches away, his chest brushing her back.

“I need you” he whispered, “ _please_ , come back to us.” His hand ran down her arm, like he had done many times before, yet it felt different now.

Her eyes fluttered shut at his touch, her teeth nipping at her bottom lip. “Will you let me in?” she breathed.

He stood silent and simply rested his forehead against the back of her head. He couldn’t force himself to mutter a single _yes_ , terrified of the consequences.

She closed her eyes and sighed. “Then I can’t. Not like this.” With her hand she pushed his away, disentangled him from her. Facing away she said “Let me go”, wishing he did but also he didn’t. Without the warmth of his touch she felt cold and when she dared to look around he was gone.

 

* * *

 

Yet he came back. Every weekend he would be there: outside the coffee shop where she’d get her breakfast, or casually leaning against his bike outside her new work-place. Sometimes she would see him, other times he would leave something in her place to remind her of his presence –as if she could ever forget him–.

It bothered her that he wouldn’t leave her alone but it also terrified her imagining a life without Oliver Queen, even in the form of small tokens and silent encounters. So she ignored him, thinking he would eventually give up, move on, find some other IT girl to do the job.

It wasn’t until three months had passed from that first awful visit that she confronted him. She had gone out on her first date in longer that she cared to remember and he had been there, sitting alone in a table before them, eyes glued to her the whole evening. How was she supposed to go on with her life when he was there to remind her of how it used to be? Of how _they_ used to be. That night, after sending her date away she faced him and using her loud voice asked him to go away.

“ _No_ ” he simply stated, stubborn as always; the amount of pain in his eyes ripping her apart. Still she stood her ground. She had already given him enough time and chances to make it right, and all he did was stood by and watch her move on. The problem being she couldn’t possibly move on with him still there.

So she stomped to her place, fuming at him and at herself. He followed suit, and before long they were by her door. She stopped and turned around.

“Why are you doing this, Oliver?” she screamed at him. “What do you want from me? To hack a target’s company, break a few federal laws? Maybe trace a custom weapon, or simply upgrade your system. Or is it a coffee you are expecting me to make for you?” she snapped, sarcastically. She laughed humorlessly, the sorrow in her blue eyes all too evident.

“Why don’t you let me go?” she cried, her vision clouded with tears.

He gazed at her and declared with as much sincerity as he could muster “Because I _love_ you”.

Her breath caught in her throat. That was the last thing she expected him to say.

“I love you and I am tired of fighting.” He said and started to approach her. “I’m tired of going through life but not _living_. I’m tired of being _afraid_.” He stopped in front of her. She stood paralyzed, eyes glued to his, mouth open in bewilderment.

“I need you, not just because of what you do for us, but for who you are. Because I don’t feel alive without you in my life.” His hands cupped her face, his thumb smoothing over the tears that escaped her eyes. “Please don’t drive me away.”

For the first time ever Felicity Smoak was at a loss for words. She had waited for this moment for so long it didn’t feel real, but the warmth of his hands as he caressed her face proved that it was. A faint blush crept over her cheeks as she smiled. She stood on her tiptoes and leaned into him until their lips were only inches apart.

“It’s about damn time” she breathed, and brushed her lips lightly over his.

He wrapped one arm around her waist; fingers tangling in her golden hair. He kissed her back as if his life depended on it. Oliver knew there was still much to figure out but for now he was home.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Please like/comment. As always, encouragement or constructive criticism is always welcomed :)


End file.
